


Late Hours

by sunnyFlorist



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Eventual Relationships, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyFlorist/pseuds/sunnyFlorist
Summary: "Taeyang is hard working. We thought he would be able to take care of himself like anyone else, yet here we are, dealing with this mess of his. He should be more responsible."Someone had fallen through. Youngbin thought they were woven together, yet people are not as simple as string. Taeyang fell, and noone was there to catch him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload of this fanfiction, as it was originally posted on another site. After making some changes to it, I am posting everything in one chunk, and following chapters will be added individually.

In the late evenings, Taeyang was still practicing, long after the other members would go home for the day. They knew this, yet no one seemed to do anything about it. They wouldn't tell him to slow down, because they knew he was doing it for the group, for the fantasies, to make their performances even more enjoyable. They felt that they should work that much as well, but they couldn’t. Not as much as Taeyang. He was hustling more than any other member, perfecting his choreography, never feeling content with his performance. There were beads of sweat rolling down his face as he did a few more turns, a few more spins, just to get them as sharp as he wanted. He wouldn’t stop until he was heaving, short of breath, dragging himself to his room to sleep. The hard work and long hours that strained his body showed in the form of two dark circles shading his usually bright eyes.

Purple hair brushed his headlights as he was walking casually towards the training room, to go through the choreography just one more time with the members to get it right before their showcase. They needed this last repetition to make sure everything was in order, no one falling out of line. He winced once, after shifting his body weight to his left leg. The sun was the last to arrive, oversleeping a bit in the tired, forgiving morning, just to open the door of the training-room, meeting a wall of heat and stuffy air, bearing heavy on him, giving him a slight headache.

Everyone were moving in perfect sync to the beat of the music, sharp moves painting the room, steps giving the illusion of a tilting floor. Taeyang was feeling it, proud of his members nailing the choreography. A smile was tugging his lips a bit as he looked in the mirror at the others, focused on their own moves. The music was rushing towards the stop before the refrain, Taeyang moving his body quickly taking a step before swinging his legs into the air. Time seemed to be slowing down as he focused on landing his jump flawlessly. He caught his horizontal spin with his left leg as the sound of "bureureung" could be heard ringing throughout the room. The weight of his entire body and the jump got transferred to his foot as it touched the ground. He felt his knee giving in to the strain that he could take so easily before, muscles not able to pull the leg straight again but instead clasp together like a folding chair. His confused head was rapidly nearing the floor before making sudden contact.

Surging pain was piercing his skull as he fluttered his tired eyes open, quickly closing them again, blinded by the light of the cold training room. Frantic members were pacing the room, talking worriedly to each other, leader speaking angrily on the phone. He felt clammy, realizing he was leaning against something warm, with arms around his waist holding him still, not tight, but careful, like they were embracing something fragile. He turned his shaken head around slowly, one eye closed in pain, to see the outline of a tall boy with black hair and a worried look on his face through his blurred vision. Seokwoo registered movement from the boy he was locking his arms around, and their eyes met as he turned against him. His tight face softened with a hint of sadness shining through. This Taeyang had way overdone it. He appreciated this person relaxed within his grasp so, so much, he didn’t want this. His long fingers tightened around the younger’s hip-bones, rubbing them awkwardly to somehow make him feel better. The sunny, bright, inspirational Taeyang, how did he not see this? The soft smile he would always put up, covering his mouth as he laughed; how did he not notice the hours of lost sleep gathering below his eyes, the strain tensing up his shoulders? He had surely known he had been working hard on his choreo, but had it really gotten this bad? He felt guilty. It was surging up through him like a fire, burning his insides as he sat there with this tired body pressing against him. He should have cared more. His voice sounded tired as he spoke.

“we will get you to the hospital as soon as the car arrives”.

Taeyang looked around the room again, and turned back at Seokwoo, dizzy. He could see it more clearly now, this expression of his as his eyes had started to focus more. He felt a growing lump in his stomach as he read his hyung’s face. He had made him worry. A feeling of devastation could be sensed from this usually bright and shining person as he realized what trouble he had made for the entire group. He had worked so, so hard for this. Everyone had. The showcase was not far away, and they had all struggled, gotten sweaty, tired, exhausted for this opportunity to show everyone, their fantasies, that they had improved. To show everyone how good they were, and to go further, together. But he was pulling them down. Dragging them all together with him like a sinking ship. He should have managed himself better. This loving, caring person behind him should not need to bear an expression like that. He should not shape his face like that, furrowing his brows, tightening his lips…

Seokwoo felt something warm and wet falling onto him as he heard soft sobs coming from the boy he was holding, hands covering the crying younger's face. He knew. He knew what his Taeyang was thinking, why he was crying, and it was cutting in his heart like a knife. He took the younger's hand in his and started massaging his palm as he wiped his eyes with his other thumb. He then started caressing his face, sliding his hand slowly along the boy's cheeks and down the bridge of his nose to the tip, which he squeezed lightly with his fingertips. He was following all the lines and crevasses of the hand tracing them until he could hear the sobs quiet down. He didn't want this bright light to fall into despair like this. He didn't expect it. Rowoon had never seen Taeyang cry before, and even though somewhere in himself he thought this boy looked like a beautiful angel even when he cried, he liked Taeyang the best when he was shining like usual. When he was smiling brightly, almost closing his eyes, and emitting rays filling the room whole. Just like the sun. He knew it, if the big ball of gas in the sky would burn out one day, Taeyang was still going to shine, and he would always provide all the light and warmth they all needed.

Taeyang felt comfort in the warmth of his worried hyung, and leaned his throbbing head against his chest. He softly closed his fingers around the hand that was pressing in his, while listening to the beat of the heart from the one behind him as he let his eyelids droop across his reddened eyes. He didn't deserve this loving treatment when he had been so careless.

Before he managed to close his eyes fully, another hyung came bursting in through the door, causing it to slam against the wall, sound hammering through Taeyang's aching head. When he saw his dongsaeng was awake, he rushed over hurriedly to check on him with apologetic eyes, asking if he was ok. The state of the boy spoke for itself. Tired red eyes barely open, shivering quietly, just leaning onto Seokwoo. So pitiful.

"Hyung..." Taeyang's voice was hoarse.

"The car has arrived, we need to get you to the hospital now." Inseong sounded stressed. He felt bad; didn't want to rush the boy, but he should get checked up at once, as they didn't know how badly hurt he actually was.

Taeyang heard, and started getting up, moving the lower part of his body for the first time since waking. He got into a seated position, putting his feet down from the bench. As he bent his knee, he felt stabbing sharp pain go through it, causing tears to well up in his eyes again. He swallowed down the aching feeling, trying to get up, but continuously failing, making the pain even worse each time he tried using his leg. There's a burning sensation along his entire limb at this point, centring around his knee. His eyes water as he feels even more useless. So unnecessary. The group would do so much better without him. These wonderful hardworking people that Taeyang treasured in his heart so much, every single one of them. They shouldn't need to deal with this kind of problem; this kind of ordeal that easily could have been avoided if carelessness didn't get the best of him.

Inseong saw a change in his dongsaeng's expression as he pulled him up on his feet, and slung the boy's arm across his own shoulders. The feet that immediately gave in to the pressure of his bodyweight bearing down on them, causing a pained yelp to leave Taeyang's lips. Inseong used his careful arms to lift the struggling boy from the cold floor he was approaching. The dongsaeng's cheeks warmed even more as he felt the older take under his knees; a bit painful, but bearable. His head felt stuffed like boiling soup, and he was a bit dizzy. The compassion from his worried hyung was comforting, and made him relax. He had never been treated like this before. By his members, handling him so gently, looking at him with soft apologetic eyes. He leaned his shaken head against his hyung, his own hair brushing against his eyes, that were closing to the comfort and security of Inseong's arms.

The older glanced worriedly at the younger flushed against his chest. He seemed so calm and collected, despite the obvious pain he felt, small shivers going through his body and clenching his fists against his hyung’s shirt. His purple hair was casting shadows across the slender boy’s face, clear skin folded into a furrowed brow, jaw clenched as his heart was beating steadily, fully trusting the determined older, who had started walking steadily, a bit rushed against the door of the crowded practice room. Worried looks followed the skilled feet hanging loosely from Inseong’s arms as one member’s kind hand opened the door, tall legs moving through, quickly out of the tall building, getting into the car parked outside, engine still running. The rumbling of the street echoed in the florist's head as the door slammed shut, abruptly cancelling all sound of the outside world, only the warm humming of the car seeping through the seats and into the ears of the passengers, younger leaned against the car door on top of Inseong’s lap, still protected by his arms. A hand was softly patting his hair as he collected himself from the sudden movement, pain slowly settling down.

Taeyang was slightly embarrassed by the babying he got from his hyung. He wasn’t used to it. The older usually played around a lot and teased him, running around and joking loudly. This felt so serious, he was getting chocked by the tension. He moved his eyes towards the face above him, staring forward into open space, seemingly lost in thought with a worried expression pasted on. The engine of the car felt louder with each passing minute, as Taeyang was starting to feel a bit anxious at his lost hyung. He admittedly was in need of comfort, shaken by his unsettled head and chilled by the coldness of the car. He squeezed his eyes shut as he dove in, clutching his arms around Inseong’s waist and burying his face in his belly, causing the older to jump, but then immediately settle down, confused by the sudden clinginess of his baby dongsaeng. With a strained expression he muttered a soft “it will be fine Taeyangie, don’t worry”, running his fingers through the soft hair down to his neck. The boy started digging his head underneath his hyung’s shirt for warmth, pressing his face against the smooth skin emanating heat he so desperately needed. He took in the older’s familiar scent of sweet mixed with a bit of sweat from the dance practice he tried not to think about. He closed his eyes again, feeling a bit guilty for taking this liberty that he didn’t really disserve.

Taeyang was nudged awake by the backlash of the car stopping, head aching like no tomorrow and right leg getting knocked off the seat of the car it was resting on. Brown eyes flashed open wide, as he felt his kind hyung picking him up as he got out of the car, cautiously making sure his hurt leg wouldn’t bump into anything. The baby’s hand started grasping at the older’s shirt as he was getting cold again, exposed to the wind outside. It was blowing harshly at the almost naked trees lining the streets, ripping dry leaves off, carrying them to god knows where. The boy was shivering now, pressing his face into his hyung’s shoulder, failing to notice the closing of the front passenger seat of the car.

Two firm hands were placing a jacket across Taeyang’s tired body as he felt warmth finally envelope him, shielding from the harsh bite of the outside. His dizzy confused head started panicking as Inseong began nudging his dongaseng into the stranger's arms. He tightened his grip, clutching even harder to his hyung’s shirt, refusing to let go or even turn his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the fabric. The strange arms were around him now, feeling a bit familiar, but Taeyang was too shaken to notice, focusing on the hyung who was trying to peel his hands off of him, a bit hurt at the action, but gently letting go as he heard his soft voice cooing “Ssh, Taeyang, leader-nim is taking care of you now”.

Youngbin was a bit shaken by how clingy his usually independent and confident dancer was being, as he witnessed the struggling boy saying goodbye to the lingering other, then to immediately turn and clutch desperate arms around the unexpecting leader, tears burning the corners of his eyes. A soft “hyung…” slipped his mouth. The black-haired male had a worried look on his face as he carried the baby into the hospital to sit in the waiting room, having a bit of a hard time keeping the taller younger in his grasp. They sat down on one of the blue couches in the cold plain room, Taeyang on Youngbin’s lap, leaning against the arm rest. As a leader, he should have known better then to let one of his members over-exert himself like this. The late hours he had gone back, music still playing in the practice room as their diligent main dancer was still there sweating, only to find him returning at ungodly hours. Why didn’t he say anything? Now this has affected all the members, and the health of their group’s sunshine. He placed one of his hands on the forehead of the younger, combing his soft hair with his left, tightening a bit as he felt how hot the other was, a rush of guilt running through him. “Hey, you are burning up!”. He clutched both his hands around the younger’s head, rubbing his temples as the brown eyes opened and closed slowly, struggling to stay awake.

The headache had gotten worse, as Taeyang didn’t feel cold anymore. Instead he was sweating bullets, a bit startled at the older’s outburst. He brought his hand up, urging the leader to let go of his head. “You don’t have to worry, I’m fine”; words shakily leaving the younger's lips. Youngbin looked at his dongsaeng in disbelief, as he thought. Of course, of course his sunshine would say that. He was always fine, no matter what happened the kind boy would use the same words to explain his state of being. He placed a soft kiss at the scorching forehead, as a seal to his wish of it cooling down. The younger had finally closed his eyes, breathing steadily, pumping warm air out of his lungs, lips slightly parted as his stuffy nose didn’t allow him to breathe through it. Youngbin smiled painfully at the sleeping boy as he placed his hand on the relaxed shoulder.

The tranquillity of that moment didn’t last as long as the tired leader would have liked it to, as the white door at the end of the room quietly opened and a woman in a white coat called in a calm clear voice “Yoo Taeyang”.

Taeyang is leaning on Youngbin under the dim streetlight, eyes down the road as the chill of the wind is pulling across the younger's hunched shoulders. The shaking of the dongsaeng causes a reaction from his hyung, as the older carefully pulls the shivering shoulders even closer to himself, sharing the warmth of his jacket with the other, successfully zipping it up with both of them inside. Taeyang curls his arms together, attempting to find space for them to rest, while the heat seeping from the jacket and his kind, thoughtful hyung fills him up again. The struggling younger ends up turning around embracing the body emitting so much warmth next to him, as the tight jacket doesn't leave him with much other choice. Youngbin looks at the boy clinging to him so desperately, purple hair brushing against his chin as Taeyang leans his head against the crook of the older's neck. He puts his arms supportingly around the florist standing on one foot, softly bending the other, unable to lean or rest it against anything at the moment, but instead suspending it loosely in the air as it shakily vibrates in the cold, only touching the concrete sidewalk with the tip of his toe. The sun's eyes are steadily opening and closing as the late hours are getting to him. The older brings up his hands, attempting to smudge the tired look out of the youngers eyes with his thumbs, stroking them gently. A fond look shine across the leader's face as he thought of how much work this boy put himself through for his group, staying up way later than the current hour that is so hard on him today, moving his body to the rhythm of their newest song as he perfects the choreography a bit more, sharper, with more feeling every time it replays. A bit of sadness escapes from the back of Youngbin’s mind and through the air, drenching the scene of the two males as the older runs his hand through the hair of the younger, a loaded sigh escaping his lips as he looks up at the overcast sky, clouds slowly tumbling above them, brooding, yet barely visible through the thick darkness that is surrounding the warm glowing streetlight.

Stinging carlight hits the leader's face as a black vehicle pulls up outside of the hospital. Another member, rushed, tumbling out of the front passenger seat as he pushes himself towards the pair beneath the streetlight with a questioning look on his face. "Is his dongsaeng ok? Will the sun still be the main dancer, still move so smoothly? Is he badly hurt?" He voices none of this, but Youngbin can read all the frantic questions from his concerned demeanour, slowly unzipping his jacket and urges the clinging baby to turn around. But again, the boy just clenches his fists even harder, eyes squeezed shut. His hot breath condensates into the air, visible through the light above them as the dongsaeng yelps into the leader's neck "Hyung, no...". A bewildered look flashes across Sanghyuk's face as he watches this strange interaction between his leader and this younger male. The tired arms straining themselves to stay clasped around the older's chest as the shaken dizzy head refuses to give in despite the pleas of the elder; "Taeyang, please let your hyung take care of you. I need to go back in". This strange way his dongsaeng was acting, he had never been this clingy. He would never drape himself across other members, rather slight touches then skinship like this. The careful boy would mostly give in, allowing people close to him instead of taking the initiative, staying passive, shying away sometimes with insecurity in his eyes as he leans away from the other member’s grabby hands, and other times lightly giving affection back in small gestures and brushes. A smirk played Sanghyuk's lips as Youngbin was able to peel the younger off of him, turning the flailing boy around to face his hyung as he gladly put his arm around the back of his dongsaeng who had immediately started to grasp the back of the other's jacket for balance as he had realized who he was being handed over to. He glanced at the leader who was returning back to the hospital while he hobbled tiredly to the car, lead by Dawon, who seemed amused by his dongsaeng's sudden change of character.

The older, a couple cm below his dongsaeng, carefully shoved Taeyang into the car, smirk falling into a more serious expression as the younger brushed his knee against the front seat while getting himself settled in the back. He was clasping in on himself in pain, only pressing his fists against his own chest as he tried to avoid touching the burning area centring around his sprained knee. Dawon got into the car in a rushed manner, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving the cramped car with only the humming of the motor mixed with the small whimpers of the younger, softly, silently pleading for this pain to go away. The older’s heart was breaking as he pulled the younger close, stroking his back, squeezing his hand firmly to express emotion, compassion towards his dongsaeng whose tears now had started falling, caused partly by pain, partly by confusion, his concussion making him more emotional then he should be, mind slightly lagging behind his actions. Dawon doesn’t know what to do when the strong, confident member that he appreciates so much crumbles in front of him, soft crying turning into heaves as his sunshine is starting to bawl his eyes out, choking a bit attempting to stop, but eventually giving in to the tears. The younger turns arounds for comfort from his slightly awkward hyung, placing his feet across his lap, flinching a bit through his shaking back as he settles down his left, head leaning forward at the chest of the older, forehead forcefully pushed against his collar bone. He had been holding back for a long time, not willing to unsettle the leader with his uncharacteristic crying, but with Sanghyuk it’s ok. He can freely let the tears slide down his face, as his warm, bubbling hyung will be there to wipe them away, unfazed. His understanding face would never be put off by the selfishness of Taeyang’s hands, clasping him close for comfort as a few words hicks past his lips; “hyung, thank you”.

Taeyang cursed himself for being so childish, he had no reason to cry. The ache in his knee is bad, but it will heal. The lingering feeling of unbearable heat in his skull, making him dizzy and sick, lowering his power of judgement and causing his mood-swings would go away in a couple of days. He blames it on the concussion and the heavy air in the car, windows like holes, giving glimpses of the dreary, overcast sky outside.

Soft hands move up from Taeyang’s shoulders to his head, making him loosen the pressure of his forehead, who was seemingly glued to the front of his hyung, leaving the older with the face of his dongsaeng, eyes like faucets fully opened, water cascading, trickling down his cheeks in streams. The muscles of the youngers stomach were tightening with the violent sobs pushing themselves out of his throat, causing him to slant forward, covering his mouth meekly with one of his hands, clenching his chest with the other. His shirt crinkles into a distressed flower around Taeyang’s fist as his fingers dig into the fabric. Sanghyuk looks at the younger with calm eyes as he starts combing his hair with his fingers. “it’ll be ok”. He allows the younger to settle his head back onto his chest, patting his shaking shoulders firmly, hoping the cluelessness of how to handle this situation doesn’t shine through his actions.

The car was close to the same temperature as the air outside, causing the hairs on Taeyang’s bare arms to prickle up, cold air from the vents of the car seeping into his loose shirt, distracting him from the heaving and hiccupping sobs escaping his throat. Sanghyuk snapped out of his slight internal panicking easily noticeable in his slightly widened, concerned eyes as he noticed the younger wasn’t shivering due to the tears escaping his eyes, but instead due to the cold that was covering him like a blanket. He was rushed to the hospital with concerned eyes only looking at his broken appearance and handling him accordingly, bringing him, bearing him without noticing the skimpy clothes he was sporting, dressed for the clammy air of their practice-room. The boy was wearing only a loose tank top, falling softly across his built frame, and black trainers, wrapping around his skinny legs making him look even taller next to the other members. His experienced legs that looked like they could break sometimes when he performed the more stunning moves, causing the members to focus their eyes in awe, but never concerned at the skilled dancer who always looked like he knew what he was doing.

The tears on the younger’s face have mostly dried, leaving read streaks below his puffy eyes as Dawon wraps his windbreaker around the lanky boy, placing his arms around the shivering baby to secure him as the dongsaeng re-settle his head against the older’s tense shoulder, shaking intruding hair away from his eyes.

A familiar building approaches as the car starts slowing down. Dawon reaches an arm around the younger as he tightens up a bit, ready to get out into the cold weather as the vehicle he is in comes to a full stop. He nudges the door to hold it open as his dongsaeng gets out of the car. He stumbles a bit as he shakily tries to stabilize himself after the long ride, leaning onto his hyung for support. The older puts his hand on the small of Taeyang’s back, leading the hobbling boy back into their dorm through the cold wind that is slapping their faces.

Sharp light meets the eyes of the boys as they open their door, piercing the dim of the hallway. As they enter the room, steps and rustling from all around the house gather, approaching towards them, alerted by the slam of the main door. Concerned eyes fall upon the younger as he gives an unnatural, tired smile, eyes aching from sleep and the white lamp in the ceiling. A curse can be heard from one of the members as a shorter male push some of the group from behind to rush toward the newly entered. He thumps into the chest of Taeyang as a huff can be heard from the older, who accidentally nudged his knee against Hwiyoung’s leg. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets the sting surge through his body, refusing to let it bother him as he hugs his best friend back, tense shoulders relaxing into the younger’s arms. The other’s looks soften as they gaze at the concerned boy hugging the florist with watery eyes.

He had been pacing around for a long time, as the scene from earlier had replayed in his head again and again. How his best friend’s limp body had just laid there while the others rushed towards him. He had just stood there. Eyes wide, unable to move. He should have been there first, by Taeyang’s side when it happened, but it all had just hit him right in his stomach, and there was no helping how sick he felt when the other members really had no clue what to do, and the leader was calling their manager for advice, hurriedly shouting concerned words with a slightly higher pitch than usual.

Taeyang leans on the younger’s shoulder as he tries to avoid the other’s gazes. The uncomfortable air around them feels heavier the longer the silence stays unbroken as no one knows what to say. One member steps forward from the half-circle surrounding the newly arrived in the doorway, barraged while still wearing their shoes. The red tint to his hair shines brighter as the fluorescent light passes through the strands. He breathes a huff through his nose as he gathers his worried expression into a furrowed brow, strictly scanning his dongsaeng. The cool blanket in the room keeps until Jaeyoon opens his mouth, and the temperature drops to negative.

“What were you thinking, being reckless like that? You are affecting the whole group.”

Pause, as everyone stops to process these words, before again, a slightly bothered statement from Chani breaks the protective shell of pity the members previously had for their main dancer; as they now feel they can pin this on him, push it away and refuse to deal with hurt like this, instead of wallowing in their own guilt, blaming their own actions, because why would they want that for themselves?

“What will happen to the showcase? We have to do it without you hyung. It will be harder for everyone.”

Chani elated a bit as he criticised the older, unconsciously gritting words sailing out of his mouth like soap from a soap-dispenser.

This triggers a flurry of comments, members finally voicing their dissatisfaction with the current situation. They are remaining stationary, but flocking together, group mentality making all their actions seem less meaningful to themselves, but more impactful seen from the outside.

“We need to rearrange the choreography now”

Dripping sighs fall to the ground.

“I know you did it for the group, but you should have known better”

“It will be a lot harder for us members now”

An agreeing hum slips through the room

“This happened before, didn’t you learn anything”

Taeyang is just standing there, taking it all. Everything they are saying is true, he hasn’t improved one bit from before. He should have known better, his body, his own limits, what he is capable of doing. “But this isn’t my body’s fault. It should be able to handle it, as my mind is what gave out. If I trained harder, my legs would be stronger, If I had stayed back a few hours more instead of slacking off like a lazy bastard, I would have been able to land that jump and keep going, instead of creating this hole that I am dragging everyone into.” He feels a bad taste in his mouth, growing, as he swallows dry, hand slowly digging itself into Hwiyoung’s shoulder. He feels disgusted. At himself, his weak body, the “disease” that is incapacitating his leg, making it more useless then it already is, for disappointing his members, the kind members that were working hard, so hard, and he has got to burden them with his terrible, terrible, terrible…

The door clicks and swings open, as a male carrying crutches takes a few steps into the cramped passage leading into the living room, taking a few seconds to take in the situation, as silence falls again between the members.

Youngbin looks at the group blocking the opening, and then glances over at the two younger with Dawon at their side, scanning each of their faces carefully while placing the crutches against the wall. The coldness of the room is slowly disappearing as the tension generates almost painful heat, causing sweat to prickle. He lingers a bit, before opening his mouth, causing Taeyang to slowly lower his head, avoiding the cold piercing gazes of the others.

“What is going on here?”

A stern accusing voice escapes his lips. He squints against the group of men as he turns against Taeyang, whose defeated look is undeniable; though his hands are clenched, fighting back, one against his side, and the other still holding onto Hwiyoung. The younger hadn’t even looked at him through the whole ordeal, just stared ahead, unmoving, too scared to deny anything, but unruly glued to his friend’s side. He couldn’t help but understand where the other members were coming from, though refusing to betray the older. His flickering gaze had unsettled Taeyang as he had searched the other’s face before caving into himself, looking for a reaction. He had almost wanted to push the younger away, into the group of people, to make it easier for him. Just choose for him, make the already obvious choice even more obvious, because he didn’t want, to burden his friend. His good friend, that had been so worried for him, rushing to his side; his pretty face almost glowing, so warm, so soft, way too good for himself. “He should be with the other members, not holding onto someone like me, I’ll just be a burden to his talent. He just doesn’t realize how useless I am yet”. But he didn’t push him. He didn’t want to cause him the guilt, because who would do that to their friends? Push them away? Hwiyoung would never let that slide. His clenched hand is going slack, sliding down from Hwiyoung’s shoulder as he rethinks, lifting his head up slightly, to find his leader’s face in front of him.

“I brought you crutches from the hospital. It’ll be hard for you to walk for a while, so use these.” He gestures to the crutches leaned against the wall, eyes flicking away before falling onto his dongsaeng again. Taeyang cringes at his leader’s words, not able to deal with this aspect of the situation. His palms burn as he wipes them onto his pants, attempting to direct his own attention away from the symbol of his failure causally slanted in the corner.

Youngbin takes the younger’s hand and leads him over to the couch, leaving the still processing blonde to stand alone for a bit, face settled into a strained expression. He ushers the sun to settle down and places his leg up to the armrest, causing a small hiss to escape the younger’s lips. Taeyang meekly stretches out his hand to grab the elder’s pants, but lets it gently fall as he walks away, strides seeming like miles long from the view on the couch. His head is still throbbing and warm as he nudges it sideways to look at the white, plain wall, eyes slightly clouded with sleep that have been on and off the entire day. The other members had left to their rooms soon after their leader’s attention had been averted away from them. The room feels unusually silent and empty, only Youngbin left in the kitchen. Hwiyoung had completely averted his friend’s gaze while leaving, seeming almost shameful opening the door of their shared room before gently letting it slide shut.

Something cold is being placed on his knee, startling Taeyang, causing him to sit up to his elbows. He finds an ice-pack wrapped around his hurt, numbing the pain away, and Youngbin standing over him, almost a bit menacing. His face seems awfully tired, probably exhausted from the stressful day. His eyelids are drooping a bit and his arms are hanging loosely by his sides, fingers rubbing fidgety against each other. “He is probably mad because I have caused so much trouble. He has responsibility for the whole group, and I have been so unreasonable”. Taeyang is trying to avoid the leader’s gaze, frozen in place, heart racing as he breaks into a cold sweat. “is he going to scold me now? Tell me how useless I am?”. He is clenching his hand, caught up in his spiralling thoughts, not wanting to feel the distance between himself and his team. It feels awfully cold to be alone. That’s why he is trying his best to be good, so he can stay with the others. Those great people, he loves every single one of them, their looks, their personality, they are all so perfect and the fans love them as well. He wants to be useful. An important member that everyone can depend on. He works hard for it, but it seems all so far away, like he hasn’t become any better.

The presence of the leader was almost forgotten through his clouded thoughts as warm arms wraps around his chest. His heart still racing, and is now almost beating out of his chest. A head of hair is placing itself on top of him, unspoken words almost killing the younger as he stays still, just wishing Youngbin would let go. “What is he doing? What is going on?” The soft breathing of the older is hot against his cool skin, still wearing skimpy clothes in the chill room, as he never had the opportunity to change. He feels like he is dirtying something pure with his damp skin as he lays there smushed against his hyung, silently panicking because of the sudden contact. He is prepared to try and wiggle free, ask Youngbin to go sleep in his own room, wanting to be alone with his thoughts.

“It’s ok”

Breathy words escape the leader’s mouth as his arms tighten around the younger, encasing him like a mother protecting her child. The older feels shivering fingers slowly falling to a rest on his back, warm palms trustingly relaxing onto his tensed body.

The light forces it’s way through the uncovered windows as the nine members sit around the quiet table in their living room. Food is being hastily shoved down as they gather nourishment for the rest of the day, faces moving around as different thoughts of the following practice grinds through their heads. The sun is shining less brightly this morning, head held low, only poking at the cold food on his plate. Earlier he had woken with a lukewarm ice pack against his knee, light pricking his eyes hard, causing him to squeeze them shut the best he could. A soft blanket was covering him, but was disheveled and half-way to the floor, toes feeling the biting cold of the room through his thin socks. The others had ignored him blatantly as they rushed past the aching member in their morning routine, him slowly gathering himself to a seated position on the couch as he could see the wide gaping hole between him and the others intimidating him with it’s bottomless depth, even more real every time he felt it. Even with Hwiyoung. The newly awakened younger stopped and looked at his friend whose eyes were tired, rubbing  them to a flush shade of red with a strained expression on his face, lips tugged slightly upward despite his condition as their eyes met. The younger moved to help the other get up, a sudden snap of movement that was quickly intercepted by the older, whose eyes were now slightly glazed over as they almost protruded the younger's skin, intense, focused on the space between his brows for a brief second. He slowly retracted his hands as the older shakily got up on his wobbly legs by himself after hours of seemingly uncomfortable sleep, showed by the hand firmly rubbing against his neck. He wobbled off to the bath while the younger stayed put, hands by his sides as he watched the other struggle; lips stretched to a thin line as he disappeared through the door.

Attentive eyes stare at the deflated person slumped by the table. Hwiyoung, guilt filling his stomach like a whole meal, with concern watches his good friend shut himself completely off with a blank gaze down at his untouched plate, shoulders hunched to an uncomfortable position. His eyes leave the older and drifts along the line of people sitting around him, fully focused on their own food, but sometimes throw invisible annoyed looks at their Taeyangie, leaving a dry feeling in the air, and Hwiyoung meeting their gazes with a look of distress, helplessness churning around his chest as he sees their confused reactions at his notion, them shrugging and going back to their meal, unable to understand his concern for their fellow member. He presses his need to speak up down below in the back of his mind when he sees the leader’s comforting hand on Taeyang’s slumped shoulder, causing their sun to tense up his back, straighten up as his eyes bat over to the older a slight second before settling back down at the calories on his plate that does not seem to tempt him one bit as he feels way too heavy in his chair already with the members looks piling up on him.

The breakfast is coming to a natural conclusion as people get up from their seats and move hurriedly out the door to practice, rushing ahead as they realize the pressuring time provided to move from their dorm and ahead to get there. A hand moves from taeyang’s shoulder, under his shoulder-blades to his armpit, hitching him up to his feet. He snaps his head around at the motion, but feels reassured at the calm profile of his leader who is looking ahead at the people tumbling out the door, shoes messily trudged onto their feet as they stumble through the cramped hallway.

Another hand places itself onto the small of his back, then moves around to secure itself around his hip, his big red sweater crumpling and riding up as he is almost being carried by the other male, Youngbin going ahead to put on his shoes, the feeling of his warm hand lingering a bit like a washable print. It was in no way comfortable being handled like this, but in a way less painful then walking.The sun feels cold sweat prickle his nape and forehead as he is in no way ok with this kind of action from the other members. They shouldn’t even touch people like him; dirty, filthy. He feels looked down upon, he wants to be helpful, not the one being helped. As the other members said the day before, he was causing trouble for everyone and he should learn to manage himself, this was not the way to go if he wanted to improve. 

He felt a tightening in his chest as he forcefully ripped the hand whose owner was unknown off his side, turning his head to see the offended expression on Hwiyoung’s face as he did. 

«What is your problem?!» The scrunched brows on his friend’s face almost scares him, causing the older to retract a bit, tensing his body as he moves away, facing the younger. Though freeing himself from the other’s grasp like he wanted, this was not at all how he would like it to go. «Oh god, he is mad now». Blood starts pumping faster as Taeyang tries to come up with an apology, cursing himself for creating this situation in the first place. He never does anything right.

«I am trying to help you, why the hell are you acting like this». Hwiyoung is frustrated at his hyung. Why is he being like this when he is clearly trying to be nice? His hand movement, so harsh. The other looked almost disgusted by his friendly motion, not at all grateful. «Are you mad at me? I’m trying to be nice to you!» The intensity of Hwiyoung’s stare as he spoke, shrunken pupils tearing a hole through the older’s already broken barriers causing  his unfocused eyes to flicker down to the parquet covering the living room floor, regretting, he should have just let him. 

Hunched shoulders and hands up to his face, who is melding into different expressions as racing thoughts are steaming through his head, churning around and hurting him as all his outcomes involve losing his friend to his inability of making rational decisions. He didn’t deserve him anyway. He never did, the fans, everyone could see who was cut out to be an idol out of the two, he souldn’t be taking liberties and doing things he was never cut out for. He shouldn’t, but he does anyway because he wants to, and he is selfish like that. He doesn’t want to lose his friend either, because even though he doesn’t deserve him he wants to stay with the person that has always been there smiling at him, enduring everything together with him.

Then the thought of him never dancing with the others again shoots through his mind, screaming at him like a blinking alarm ringing in his ears, and it feels like he has just been hit by a truck. His bent body, protecting his vitals, hunching down to a painfully vulnerable position starts shaking as a pitiful sound escapes through hiccups of built up stress pouring out.

«I-I-I-I’m s-so s-s-s-soorry, I j-just, I just w-w-wanted t-to w-walk on my own» his head slightly tilts upwards as his fingers spreads to look at the younger. «I-I’m sorry, p-p-please forgive me». He is down to a squatting position, after talking covering his head with his arms, only able to look at his friend for a few seconds because his face must be a mess right now, and he doesn’t want him to see that. 

The younger’s eyes widen at the sight in front of him, trembling hands reaching ahead as he realize what he has done. He messed it up again. He is about to start pleading with the elder, apologize, whatever it takes to make him stop crying. When did his charismatic cool hyung become this fragile? Or had he really been that harsh? What is this, it seems like the other has no self-esteem at all. Why didn’t he see it? How did anyone not see it? Muscles tenses his body, willing to move, but with no direction, unable to comprehend the situation, he remains stagnant.  Someone rounds the corner and immediately rushes towards the scene, pace picking up at the sudden unexpected visual in front of him, dropping the shoes he is carrying as his hands stretches forward because he wants them to reach the florist faster. Hard stares at the fretting younger who is seemingly being the worst person possible to his hurt hyung, before calming words blends in with the soft sobs in the otherwise quiet room. Hwiyoung feels a stinging pain in his chest, spreading throughout his entire body to his fingertips.

«Taeyang-ah, what happened? Please tell me». Youngbin’s demeanor changes so suddenly when dealing with his dongsaeng. He usually have this leader-aura around him, a bit of resistance and a feel of authority, but now he seems so soft. His eyes that previously were shooting daggers at hwiyoung are now calmly looking down, focusing on getting an arm away from the younger’s face, still an underlying worried tone to his voice and features. Taeyang’s tense shoulders drop a little to the firm touch comfortingly patting his back in circles, but he is still refusing to move his arms.

The older slowly gets up from his crouching position to face hwiyoung, who still is clueless of what to do, fearing that he completely broke his bright and cheery hyung.

«What the hell did you do?!» His snarling voice breaks Hwiyoung’s train of thought, rough enough to make the boy on the floor jump, tensing up his shoulders again. The younger lowers his head at the expecting stare of his hyung, unable to answer, biting his lip nervously, regreting, but he deserves this, taking on the itching discomfort wholeheartedly as it comes to him with the weight of the room. His bangs fall down to cover his flushed face and he uses the opportunity to squeeze his eyes shut. His own feet aren’t much to look at anyways. 

«I asked you a question». He speaks louder this time, causing a flinch from his dongsaeng, whose muscles are obviously tensed, though stoic; like a dancer during a performance. Youngbin, frustrated as to not knowing what is going on seems taller with his straight, authoritative positure, looming above the younger, who is shrinking by the second with his self-depricating thoughts, tearing into him like horseflies. Seconds are stretching out far, leaving more time to think and to take in the situation, making the silence uncomfortably long. The leader has had an off feeling since he returned last night, looks on the other member’s faces almost fuming, giving off a scent of spite, putting up a resistance he can almost physically feel. And this scene is just further proof of that. Has he baetrayed the group? As a leader he is responsible for them to get along, at least to some extent, and not so long ago he felt like he was doing a good job. The warmth between the members was usually almost feverish, bonds pulling them together like magnets. Have Taeyang become a plastic piece, suck inbetween and held in place by the rest, but never meant to be there in the first place? Had he been all along? He clences his jaw as he continues staring at the blonde bangs in front of him, seemingly unmoving.

«...»

«... I’m sorry». A whisper escapes the younger’s lips, voice almost inaudiable, but the piercing silence filling the room allows the sound to reach their ears clearly. It seems weak and fragile from trembling lips, almost forced. Squeezed out of his chest, coming out airy with a lot of pressure like a clog in his throat being released. He remains still.

Young bin lingers a bit at his words, blankly staring at the other while taking them in and processing, placing them in a folder at the back of his mind. His stern face rearranges itself a bit, still looking provoked, but with new determanation as he starts moving. He brushes past Hwiyoung on his way out of the room, with a low unsettling voice ending their silent dispute. «Is it me you should be saying it to?».

As the front door slams shut, the younger is left with his hyung curled up on the floor, face still hidden and one leg akwardly stretched out, completely still, almost making his dongsaeng wonder if the older is still breathing or not. He feels his stomach churn at this thought, regret blending toghether with the remains of his own pride as he hunches down to a squatting position in front of Taeyang, trapping the older’s leg between his two feet. His muscles twitch a bit just as the younger’s fingers brushes past the other’s wrist, wanting to grab them to move his arms away, but in this state there is no way. He repostions himself, settling his weight over to his toes to get his face closer to the other, trying to get his attention, moving around to try and look between the red cloth the older is submerged in. Taeyang can feel his dongsaeng’s breath close to him, unsettling a few strands of hair on his head. Tears burn the corner of his eyes again as the discomfort of their proximity makes him draw even more in on himself, knuckles whitening as he fists his sweater, crincling it up between his fingers. What is he going to do now? He must be mad at me, I am being really intolerable, and Youngbin even yelled at him when this is clearely my fault. Why didn’t i say anything? He surely won’t leave me alone now, all because of my thoughtlessnes again. Thoughts fill his head like a teapot slowly building pressure, bringing his headache back to life, silently cursing himself as his heartrate sounds similar to galloping horses in his chest.

«Taeyang-ah, I’m sorry, please look at me». A soft coo can be heard from the younger. It fills the uncomfortable silence of the room, and causes the temperature to rise a few degrees. Eyes are looking down at the other kindly, not daring to try and touch him, but just waiting for the other to react. 

«It’s my fault, I’m sorry». 

The sun’s breath hitches at the younger’s apologetic words, useless thoughts dropping a thousand feet into the pit of his stomach as he realizes the other’s intentions. The soothing tone of voice urging him to soften, giving in to the other’s silent request. His tensed arms start to slack, slowly, shakily moving to reveal a tear streaked face, red eyes and nose, quivering lips swollen from biting.

Hwiyoung reaches out one hand to the older, who retreats slightly, but allows the touch, and with a motion of his thumb wipes under his eye carefully. «Hyung, are you okay? We need to get to practice with the others». He lays out the words with a warm expression as he searches for Taeyang’s hand and grabs it.

None of the members turn their heads when they appear half an hour late for practice, Hwiyoung breathless with a puffy-faced Taeyang on his back, holding on tightly as the other starts loosening his grip for him to gently slide down towards the floor. As the sun properly balances himself on the cold parquet, the younger turns around and starts fiddling with the zipper on the other’s coat, feeling the heat himself, room already stuffy and damp this early in the morning, and he feels it is best to rid his hyung of his heavy winter jacket that has weighed them down on their way here, and caused a delay worth at least a couple of minutes.

The music is cascading from the speakers as the rest of the group is fully submerged in the session, not at all acknowledging the arrival of the two others as they watch themselves through the mirror wall covering one side of the room, focusing on their own moves and their synchronisation, attentively making sure everyone are on point and not lagging behind. Youngbin is yelling pinpoint words to the beat of the music as limbs are moving accordingly, clean and crisp, other than the two open spaces the tardy members were supposed to fill.

The leader suddenly twists on his toe, and heads over to turn the music off, and the group abruptly stops the session to focus on him. With a worried expression and sweat dripping from his face, Youngbin breathlessly addresses what everyone are worrying about at the moment, but does not want to or know how to bring up. «We need to rearrange the choreo, it won’t work like this with just eight people». A collective sound of despair blows through the room and makes it feel like the gravity on earth just doubled, and their worn heels hurt a little bit extra. A few glares are directed towards the corner of the room, where Taeyang is sitting leant passively against the wall, startled looking up from his phone as he hears the deflated grunts of the others. Hwiyoung, who skilfully slid in with the rest of the members during the commotion, annoyed, nudges Jaeyoon’s shoulder when he catches his eyes lingering a bit too long on their skilled dancer, brows furrowed, almost looking disgusted at the sight of his dongsaeng. He then turns at Hwiyoung beside him, who feels a rush of sadness come over him when he realizes that his hyung with wide eyes was looking back, meeting the elder’s stare, but quickly turning when it broke.

Taeyang is tensely clutching his phone, pretending to look at the screen as he feels his face is being prickled with salty stares from the other members in the room. When he heard Youngbin bring up rearranging the choreo, he felt his heart ache for the other members, the reality of the situation sinking even further down into his skin, and his strong lust for wanting to get up and exclaim that everything is fine and that he can do his part hurts him even more, because even just sitting still like this he can feel his knee aching and throbbing. He keeps asking himself «Why didn’t i do things differently? », silently cursing himself for being too persistent. Honestly, he just wanted to do his part well. Being good at dancing is his thing, he needs to shine bright and show a good image for their group. When he was practicing, he thought «It is supposed to be like this, i need to work hard to show a good image for our fantasy and everyone. The other members are working hard on their parts as well, then it makes sense that i work hard on mine». Sweating bullets on the dancefloor till late at night was what made him feel accomplished, dragging himself home to his bed, feeling the ache of his muscles the next morning.

The group spend the next hour trying to puzzle together their formation, with Taeyang shamefully and silently watching from the back.

«Ok, let’s take a break! Good work, everyone! Be back in 30 minutes! » Youngbin claps his hands loudly, and everyone slowly disperses from the dance floor. The leader grabs his bottle and pulls his coat on as he walks out, letting go of the door as he continues down the hallway.

The other members settle down on the benches and the floor along the wall, talking to each other and looking at their phones. The brush of air as the door closes breathes fresh over their faces, who at this point has a slight pink tint. It closes shut with a sharp sound after leaving Youngbin’s grasp.

Jaeyoon looks at Hwiyoung sitting next to him, hunched over his phone reading the fan cafe, fiddling with his water bottle in one hand as he scrolls through the text with the other. He inches a bit closer, gaining the attention of the younger. He turns his head at the sudden proximity of his hyung with a questioning look on his face, eyebrows slightly scrunched together.

“I want to talk to you”. Jaeyoon gestures to the door.

Walking out, they accidentally slam the door shut loudly, gaining everyone’s attention as they exit. The room feels a lot more quiet with the two members out, all small talk blown out of the air with the sound of the closing door.


	2. Return

"Why did you bring him?" Jaeyoon stands slanted forwards in front of him, uncomfortably close.

 

" ... "

 

“He ruins the mood of this entire practice session. Besides, he isn’t even doing anything anyway, so why bother?” The older practically spits the words in Hwiyoung’s face.

 

“… He wanted to go.” His eyes cast upwards as he spoke matter-of-factly to his hyung.

 

“The hell does that mean? If he told you to jump off a bridge, you would? Nevertheless, I don’t understand why you’re still hanging around him anyways.” Jaeyoon was about to give up talking and leave, when the younger grabs his arm, uncertainty in his face as he moves. He pauses.

 

“Umm, hyung… I think you are judging him too harshly.” His eyes flicker as he speaks, unwilling to glimpse the other’s expression. Jaeyoon’s face remains unchanged. He pulls loose from the younger’s grasp and reaches for the handle, causing Hwiyoung’s hand to slip down. It hangs aimlessly from the joint of his shoulder before he takes control, stuffing it securely into his pocket.

 

Before the older has time to press down the handle, a yelp is heard from the other room. Voices and shuffling reverberate through the walls, and Hwiyoung man-handles Jaeyoon out of his way before ripping the door open. The older stumbles back with an annoyed but slightly worried expression. As the younger rushes to his friend on the floor who is sitting with his face covered, breathing heavily and curling his toes with a hiss, the other members mutter among themselves. Everyone except one Lee Sanghyuk, who is glancing apologetically towards the scene. His eyes meet with Hwiyoung for a second, who is worriedly rubbing Taeyang’s back while scanning the room with his eyes. The older then lowers his head, and turns to Inseong who is sitting by his side. He says something inaudible to the younger, who immediately perks up a bit after hearing.

 

Taeyang’s heavy breathing is starting to settle down. He brings his hands down from his face to clutch his knee, but stops himself. Instead he tightens his fingers into fists, and brings them down to his sides. His face has turned tinted red, and he is starting to sweat. Hwiyoung sits silently beside him, muscles in his face tight, and with willing hands moving, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, but unaware of how to help, what to do. Jaeyoon is standing in the open doorway, not sure if he should enter, but when he hears steps behind him he scurries in to join the others.

 

Youngbin patters hurriedly into the room, lowering himself in front of the two sitting against the wall.

 

“Did your sprain become worse?” The leader looks attentively with wide eyes at the sun’s face, however when he gets no answer he turns to the younger.

 

“What happened?”

 

Hwiyoung pauses. Right before he was about to open his mouth, he glances towards the other members, and thinks for a second, then speaks.

 

“I’m not really sure, I was out for a second, and he was like this when I came back.” He talks with a concerned smile, a bit flustered as he strains his facial muscles with the words.

 

Youngbin gets up again, sporting a furrowed brow, and firmly gives his order before gesturing to the door.

 

"You take him back to the dorm, it would be better than to stay here”. He leans down to hook Taeyang’s arm over his shoulder to hoist him up, motioning for Hwiyoung to do the same. After struggling, the sun finally settles on Hwiyoung’s back. The two younger leave together, causing a sweep of cold air to pull through with the closing door.


	3. Past

Taeyang’s eyes linger as Hwiyoung and Jaeyoon leave the room. The door slips out of the elder’s fingers and pushes a loud bam through the air as it snaps back into place. He feels terribly alone, with this metal barrier suddenly separating him from the two only lifelines he has in this team. The other members stir slightly at the intruding noise, and turn to him as he sits leant up against the wall. His eyes shift as they glare at him while snickering amongst themselves. He never felt this weak before, unable to even stand up and walk out of the room without any help. If he cannot even do that, does he have the right to be bothered by this uncomfortable situation in the first place? Him being here has after all, turned out to be pointless. He should have stayed back at the dorm.

 

Inseong rises from his seated position, trudges over to the sun, and prudently kicks the sole of the sun’s foot. He looks down at him with a stoic expression. “Hey. Are you going to answer us, or not?” They get full attention as all heads in the room turn against them. “We’ve been asking questions all this time, why do we get no answers? Are you deaf?” The oldest remains still, staring expectantly. A knot forms in Taeyang’s stomach. It twists with the expressions on his face.

 

“Um…” He keeps his head down.

 

The other members start flocking around them. Chani puts a hand on Inseong’s shoulder, leaning against it to support himself as he follows the older man’s line of sight. They all stand densely packed around the one on the floor, now getting inpatient, tapping feet and sharing annoyed glances with each other. Sanghyuk squats down in front of him, next to his outstretched legs.

 

“Seriously? You’re not going to say anything?”

 

Taeyang remains silent. “What do they want me to say?” His mind races as he tries to come up with something satisfactory to their requests, to explain his own thoughts, but they are jumbled and hard to make sense of, even to himself. A prolonged silence hangs in the air. The members lose patience as they realize they will not get anywhere with this approach. In a tired final attempt, they start pestering him for answers. They poke and push him, complainingly voiced comments because they are all fed up and are all questioning the sun’s motifs. Could he not even give them a simple explanation when they have to go through so much trouble because of him? Instead they must go out of their way to force it out of him, causing themselves to feel like bad people. After all, they did not want to do this, especially when they got this reaction. Shielding himself with his forearms, Taeyang feels frightened and trapped in the middle of this group of people. They pull on his arms and shake him, and all he wants to do is retreat. “Stop it, stop it, stop it…” he chants in his mind over and over again. The world around him is darkening, and the floor is sinking. He does not know these strange hands touching him, voices raised and talking over each other.

 

“Just say something”

 

“Why are you being like this?”

 

“Stop being childish, we just want to talk”

 

His heavy breathing hitches as he jolts back to reality with a surge of sharp pain through his body. As Rowoon was reaching down to grab hold of the younger’s sweater, his knee hit Sanghyuk, who started flailing frantically before toppling over onto the younger’s left leg. Instant realisation hits him as he lands sprawled out across the younger dancer’s limbs. He quickly gathers himself off, as a loud noise of pain is heard that brings everyone to silence. The room turns cold as the younger slowly brings his forearms down to move his palms to his face, all in complete silence, head turned down. His muscles are tightened, unmoving as if a rubber band was stretched inside of him, gradually tightening and about to snap. Whispering to each other, panicked, turning heads, they linger until Inseong pushes Chani’s shoulder, motioning them all to sit back down. Sanghyuk remains still in front of the younger, opening and closing his moth to say something, straining his mind for an apology. His face is, unlike himself, slack. A drop inside his stomach as the younger suddenly pulls in a hard breath. Juho pulls him along before any words spill out.

**Author's Note:**

> I have the general framework of this story down, but I am open for suggestions. Please tell me if you have ideas for where this should go, since it's great to get input from other people.


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